


Truth Across the Table

by green78



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green78/pseuds/green78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fix-it fic for the episode "Endless." Helena is Myka's defining moment, and Myka is Helena's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth Across the Table

**Author's Note:**

> Good God, I just HAD to fix the atrocity that was Myka's fate in "Endless." Unbeta-ed, so please forgive any and all errors.

The way he was looking at her left no room for doubt, and for each second he gazed at her, something within her died. She had always seen him as a friend, and later a brother, but the way his eyes sought hers, the way his mouth was set halfway between a smile and a frown, the _hope_ overtaking his face… It was too much.

Myka just did not love Pete the way he loved her. She loved him, to be sure, but she loved him as _family_ , the way she did Claudia, Steve, and Artie. Her heart was held by another, and for better or for worse, Pete needed to see that.

“Mrs. Frederic,” the normally steadfast Myka began tentatively, “If Artie can choose the memory he wants to put into the time capsule, can I choose mine, too?”

“This time capsule is not limited to one memory, Agent Bering,” Mrs. Frederic responded with a smile. “Some agents have gone so far as to put memories of their entire Warehouse tenure within this table.”

Myka let out a shaky breath. “Then…then I want to choose what memory I place first.” And without waiting for an answer, she placed her hand on the table.

Images flashed in the blue light before them. Myka aiming her gun at Helena. Myka being stuck to the ceiling of HG Wells’ house. Myka confronting Helena at Tamalpais University. Myka being swept into the air with a grappling hook. Speaking with Helena in the graveyard. Rescuing Artie. The time machine. Warehouse 2. Yellowstone. The bookshop. The horn of Jericho. Saving the Warehouse. The hug in the driveway. Meetings. Discussions. Laughter. Embraces. Tears.

_Myka, Myka, Myka…_

 

* * *

 

_“Helena!”_

_“Myka!”_

_The two women met in a warm embrace outside the coffee shop, swaying in each other’s arms, beatific smiles on their faces._

_“It’s been far too long, darling,” Helena said as she pulled away, kissing Myka’s cheek, and the brunette returned the chaste peck. “Come – I’ve heard this place has the best teas and coffees.”_

_The two women chatted about the mundane happenings in their lives as they waited in the queue, had a brief argument over who was paying for the drinks before settling on paying for each other’s, then found a corner table by the window of the cozy café, sitting across from each other._

_“I’ve missed you, Helena,” Myka said after taking a sip of her coffee. “I wish you would consider coming back to the Warehouse.”_

_“Believe me, darling, I’ve spent a great deal of time considering it. I miss it nearly as much as I miss you,” she quipped, though the smile on her face was wistful. “But Myka…to be honest – and you’re the only person in the world I can be this honest with – I’m_ afraid _to go back.”_

_Myka frowned, taking Helena’s hand across the table. “Afraid? Why? Of what?”_

_“Of becoming the woman I was before. Of losing myself. Of losing you. I’ve long accepted the fact that the Regents will always be dubious of my involvement in anything artifact-related, and I know that I won’t exactly be welcomed with open arms, but I can’t…I can’t…”_

_Myka reached forward and cupped Helena’s cheek with her other hand, forcing the artificer to look at her. “You don’t want to get too close because you don’t want to lose me. You don’t want to take that chance.”_

_Helena nodded, then gave a self-deprecating laugh. “You must think me so terribly selfish.”_

_“Not at all.” Myka took both of Helena’s hands and squeezed them in her own. “Helena…every day I’m not with you…I’m always thinking of you. We’ll be tracking an artifact from the 1800s and I’ll think of how you’d probably know exactly what it is and what to do; Claudia will be working on some invention, and I’ll know that you’d want to tinker alongside her. There are so many everyday moments that make me think, ‘Helena would love that,’ or ‘that would make Helena laugh.’ And then there are the days when I can’t help but worry that even though you’re living as normal a life as the great HG Wells can, something horrible will happen to you and I won’t be able to save you. That one day I’ll wake up and you’ll just be gone.” The admission brought tears to Myka’s eyes. “Helena, I’m just as scared. I really am. But maybe…I’d rather be scared with you than without you. And maybe that makes me just as selfish. _”_ _  
__

_Helena only broke away from Myka’s grasp to wipe a tear from the brunette’s face. “Oh, Myka. I would give so much to be by your side. If it weren’t for the Warehouse, it would be so much easier. But I could never take that away from you.” She took the agent’s hands again. “One day, I_ will _come back to the Warehouse and I_ will _come back to you.”_

_“It won’t be easy for either of us.”_

_“I know. But it will be worth it.” It was Helena’s turn to caress Myka’s cheek. “We can’t be apart forever. And we won’t.”_

_Myka nodded, and then fought her tears the only way she could: pressing her lips to Helena’s and soothing both their hearts._

 

* * *

 

Myka pulled her hand from the table, staring at the space where her memory had been even as all eyes focused on her. “I first left the Warehouse with a broken heart,” she murmured. “In that moment when we… That was the moment I thought about it again. But this time I’d be leaving out of love. Leaving to be with the woman I love. And I only thought it for a second, just a second…but I never forgot it.”

She sat back down at the table, hanging her head and letting the various degrees of silence wash over her. Mrs. Frederic was calm and understanding, even if it didn’t seem to show. Artie was observing Myka with acceptance and understanding of his own, having long ago forgiven Helena for misdeeds he now understood to be out of grief. Claudia felt a strange mixture of sadness and giddiness – sad that two of the three women she loved most in the world were caught in such conflict, giddy that they were so head-over-heels in love. Steve felt the same understanding Mrs. Frederic did, but expressed it in the softest smile, confident that Myka and Helena would find peace somehow. But Pete…

Pete felt as if Cinderella’s knife had been hammered into his heart, turning him to glass that shattered to fragments fine as dust as his world fell apart around him. He could only stare at Myka, trying to memorize the curls that framed her face, the curve of her mouth, the green of her eyes, everything he knew now that he’d never have, never know, never feel in return… Without a word, he stood from the table and left the room, taking away the heaviest thread of silence and leaving one far worse in his absence.

Only when Pete’s footsteps faded away did Myka fold her arms on the table and bury her head, letting out a single sob of guilt. But before she could sink deeper into her self-flagellation, she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, darling.”

Myka lifted her head to meet the gaze of the woman she loved so, so dearly, empathy and comfort shining in the depth of brown eyes, a sad but reassuring smile along the curve of her lips. The brunette’s heart fluttered in her chest as it shed the weight of Atlas, and the smile she returned was of relieved joy as she breathed Helena’s name.

“HG!” Claudia exclaimed a moment later, rising from her seat to wrap the Victorian in a crushing hug.

“Hello, Claudia,” she replied with a chuckle, returning the embrace and nodding a greeting to Steve, Artie, and Mrs. Frederic. “I thought it might be prudent for me to wait to enter the room, considering the nature of the memory and the fallout it created,” Helena continued. Claudia gave her one last squeeze before pulling away, heading back to her seat as the artificer sat beside Myka. The raven-haired woman took her love’s hand beneath the table, gently stroking her skin in comfort. Myka allowed her head to drop to Helena’s shoulder as she let out a shuddering sigh.

“I broke his heart.”

“That is no fault of your own, Myka Bering,” Helena murmured. “You did nothing to lead him on nor did you manipulate him in any way. You followed your heart, and it did not lead you to him.” She kissed the brunette’s curls. “So often we blame ourselves for things over which we have no control. I would venture to say that everyone at this table has done so.” No one disagreed. “You have to learn to forgive yourself, Myka, and that’s something _you_ taught me.” Helena looked up at the others as Myka looked up at her in confusion. “I believe it’s my turn to add a memory to this capsule.”

Reaching forward, Helena placed her palm against the surface of the table.

The onslaught of images began again, this time from Helena’s mind. Entering the Warehouse for the first time. Caturanga. Her books, and the attribution of the writing to her brother. The horn of Jericho. Christina. Christina’s death. Revenge. Bronze. England. Myka. Florida. Myka. The grappling hook. Russia. Myka. Warehouse 2. Yellowstone. The coin. Regret. Expecting death and returning to life. The bomb in the Warehouse. On the run with the astrolabe. Hugging Myka by the van. Understanding why she was _really_ with Nate and saying goodbye. Meetings with Myka. Laughter. Tears. Embraces. Kisses.

_Helena, Helena, Helena…_

 

* * *

 

_“I’m still not sure why.”_

_Helena and Myka lay facing each other on a hotel bed, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. Both were clothed and above the covers, simply enjoying each other’s company, their intimacy emotional as opposed to physical. Still, their arms were draped over each other’s waists, and fingertips traced random patterns on lower backs. At Helena’s words, Myka frowned, reaching to tuck a strand of raven hair behind the artificer’s ear._

_“Not sure why about what?”_

_“How you’ve forgiven me so easily, after everything I’ve done to you.” Tears were forming in the Victorian’s eyes. “How you can love me after all that’s happened.”_

_Myka’s sigh was fond. “Oh, Helena.” She kissed her forehead. “You can’t blame yourself forever. What’s passed has passed, and you’ve more than atoned for what you’ve done. And despite what you may believe of yourself, you didn’t do any of it out of malice. You were grieving, Helena, and no one was there to help you through that grief.” Myka kissed her again, brushing lips together with tender reassurance. “I forgave you long ago, Helena Wells. Now you have to find a way to forgive yourself.”_

_“But I hurt you.” Helena’s voice was timid and quivering._

_“And you healed me,” Myka countered. “You healed me, and you complete me, and I love you.”_

_Helena shuddered with emotion, drawing Myka into a closer embrace. “I love you, too, Myka. More than I can ever find words for.”_

_“The great HG Wells at a loss for words?” Myka teased._

_“Oh, hush,” Helena replied, pinching her lightly and causing the brunette to laugh before pulling the artificer into a deep kiss._

_“Just try, Helena. Try to forgive yourself. If you can love, you can forgive. For me?”_

_Helena sighed, stroking Myka’s cheek. “For you, Myka. I can’t make any promises. But I’ll try.”_

_“That’s all I can ask for.” And then Myka pulled Helena into a kiss again, and the ferocity promised more than just cuddles above the covers…_

* * *

 

There was silence again as the memory ended, though the look Claudia exchanged with Steve suggested that the two of them were hoping that Helena would share the rest of the memory. Artie was looking a bit uncomfortable, and Mrs. Frederic’s amusement of said discomfort was surprisingly apparent. Myka was looking at Helena with tears in her eyes, even as her gaze was one of love laid bare for all to see. “Helena…” She leaned her forehead against the artificer’s, taking both the woman’s hands in hers. “I can’t make any promises,” she mimicked her love with a quirk of her lips. “But I’ll try.”

Helena’s smile was as loving as Myka’s gaze. “That’s all I can ask for.”

“There’s nothing you need to forgive yourself for, Mykes,” came a voice from the door. All at the table turned to see Pete standing there, looking glum and apologetic. “I mean, I’m a little mad that you lied to me about Helena dating some other woman, but you can’t…you can’t control how you feel, and neither can I, and…don’t blame yourself for it. I…I can’t say I’m not really, really upset, but…how I feel isn’t your fault, so…”

Myka found herself in tears again. “Thanks, Pete,” she managed, on the verge of sobbing.

Pete shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin, though it didn’t hold its usual enthusiasm. “Still partners, though, right?”

Myka gave a choked, watery laugh. “Always.”

“Right then.” He dropped back into his seat, then turned to give Helena a piercing stare. “If you hurt her, I will _murder_ you,” he said with startling vehemence.

“So noted, Agent Lattimer,” Helena replied solemnly.

Without warning, Claudia stood from her seat and made her way to where Myka and Helena were sitting. The wheels of her brain had been turning in inventive curiosity throughout the exchange, and though she knew it was an insane invasion of privacy on her part, she had a feeling that her spontaneous experiment would be well worth it. Before Helena or Myka could protest, Claudia grabbed their joined hands and pressed them to the table, immediately taking her own away before the blue light flared again.

England. Gunpoint. Stuck to the ceiling. Tamalpais. Gunpoint. Grappler. “Keep an open mind.” Russia. Reinstatement. Myka’s joy at seeing Helena alive and un-Bronzed. Time machine. Tomb Raider outfit. Warehouse 2. Yellowstone. _“Shoot me!”_ The bookstore. The horn of Jericho. Staring at each other in silence. The woods. Nearly the end. The chess puzzle. “Wells and Bering, solving puzzles, saving the day.” “Bering and Wells.” The rope. The bomb. Disappear. Reunion. Anger. Heartbreak. Self-deception. “You will never lose this friend.” Realization. “Myka, you were right. About him. About replacing Christina. You were right.” “Oh, Helena, I’m sorry, I never meant – ” “No. I have to face this. _Thank you_.” Meetings. Embraces. First kiss. Tears. Desperation. “Don’t let me go.” “Never, Myka.” Love, love, _love_. “I love you, Myka.” “I love you, Helena.”

_Helena, Myka, Helena, Myka, Helena, Myka…_

* * *

 

 _“‘You’ll be_ fine, _Myka. It’s just_ one mission _by yourself; the artifact isn’t_ that _dangerous anyway,’” the agent mocked as she and Helena crouched behind a counter, Teslas drawn. “If you hadn’t been nearby, I’d’ve been toast by now.” A bolt of lightning shrieked past them._ “Literally.”

_“Nonsense, darling,” Helena replied. “You were doing quite well on your own.”_

_“Ha,” Myka scoffed. “I’m just lucky you kept your Farnsworth and your Tesla.” She arched an eyebrow at the artificer. “You_ sure _you’re not ready to come back to the Warehouse?”_

 _Helena raised an unamused eyebrow in return. “Is this_ really _the best time for this conversation?”_

_Myka didn’t have time to answer; they both ducked a little further as another lightning bolt crackled by their heads. “Probably not,” Myka ceded. She peeked around the corner, only to immediately retreat. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas? …Helena?”_

_Helena was staring at the mirror above the sink opposite them. Myka stared too, and the idea synchronously clicked in both minds. They waited until a bolt of lightning flashed past their heads before Myka ducked around the cabinet to fire her Tesla at the man attacking them while Helena used her own Tesla to smash the mirror. Both women ducked as the pieces fell around them, then sorted through the jumble for the biggest piece. Helena used a smaller piece to see around the cabinet while Myka held the larger one at the ready. Just as the man was about to fire, Helena shouted, “NOW!”_

_Myka flipped the mirror out from the side of the cabinet just in time for the lightning to ricochet off the mirror and back towards the man. It struck him straight in the arm, eliciting a yell of pain and causing him to drop the artifact. Both women leapt from cover, Myka to keep the man prone and Helena to slide the artifact into a static bag, turning her head to avoid the sparks. And just like that, the chaos ceased._

_Ignoring the groaning man, the two women looked at each other with matching grins. Helena held up the bag proudly. “Benjamin Franklin’s Key, snagged and bagged.”_

_“Solving puzzles, saving the day.” Myka said as she and Helena high-fived. But instead of pulling apart, their fingers laced together, squeezing tightly, and the two felt the connection like the lightning they had been trying to escape. Shocked as they would have been by said lightning, the two of them stared at each other for a moment before pulling apart, each blushing, as they turned away, Myka to deal with the man and Helena to put the static bag in her jacket pocket._

_They each had known they loved each other for a long, long time, but neither was willing to admit it to themselves, pushing the feelings to the back of their minds to escape what they believed would be inevitable pain. But then, looking at each other, hands clasped, the words echoed undeniably in their heads, no longer content to rest in the shadows._

I love her.

 

* * *

 

The blue light faded, leaving everyone looking at Helena and Myka (who were looking at Claudia with some chagrin). “I was wondering if that would work,” the redhead shrugged sheepishly. “And if ever there were a defining moment in your lives, I’d say that was it. I mean, the way you looked at each other…that was the moment you _knew_ , wasn’t it?”

Myka and Helena turned from Claudia to look at each other, and the same realization they had felt in that memory echoed through them now, the truth laid bare across the table. “Yeah,” Myka whispered. “Yeah, it was.”


End file.
